black bart wrote:I forgot to do an Xmas tale of Poverty and Debauchery!

An' that wer a releef fer all yer fans!

Grand Deducer Watson of Sherlock. NoName, no pack drill. Astral zone changed five times a day (flexible). Great at manifesting parking spaces by thought control. Hatred of terminology of survivors and commitment to win-win reality.

Barrgh Humbag...I gets no fan mail or ill-literareee hawards fer me marvelous sensibull tales...and then some blaggard goes an writes a prepostrehouse tale of a man survivin in a lifeboat wiv a Bengal Tiger and a Hyenna on board an he wins thee Booker Prize Booty!!!

There be no justice in thee world.

The smoke wafted gently in the breeze across the poop deck and all seemed right in the world.

The tale o' the peripertetic sailor in very bad 'elth on account o' bein struck down by he who cannot be named.

One upon a time there wer an 'hupright citizen and sailor-type who was want ter sail ther seven seas. A terribul affliction was lurkin on board his ship, which struck 'im down and h'incpapable. The Ship's sawbones (despite this havin' nuffing ter do with bones, or saws) h'insisted he treat this unfortunate sailor. He h'injected 22 pints o' speccial brew direct into his biggest artery ( we cannot reveal which one this is on account o' it bein' a state secret). Within 2 days, the sailir were cured, even tho 'is legs 'ad fallen off, and it looked like 'is arms would be next. Twas h'explained ter 'im that the treatment killed good cells and bad cells, so one took on'es chances. The next step was to find a shop called Halfords where it might be possible to do a deal to 'ave one's motor mechanicals returned. Most unfortunate, the sailor's ship drifted out ter sea before the deal was struck. The ship was destined to sail for evermore, drawing in sailors who seemed the best exposed ter the sickness. Only the sound of slrens could cheer up the people on board. An the moral of this story is, chop off yer good parts in order that your bad parts will grow bigger, be noticed and dealt with, then try ter re-attach yer good parts. Not easy, best o' luck.

Grand Deducer Watson of Sherlock. NoName, no pack drill. Astral zone changed five times a day (flexible). Great at manifesting parking spaces by thought control. Hatred of terminology of survivors and commitment to win-win reality.

This be thee tale o' me absence, where oi were in thee belly o' thee beast!

It were a dark an' stormy noight when we set sail fr'm Southampton 'arbour, bound fer thee more clement weather o' the Caribbean. We were twenty days out o' port when a mysterious oisland were spotted on the 'oroizon, one which were not on thee map, an' bein' the hadventurous toipe, we set sail fer it. The oisland were a virtual paradoise, wi' fruit trees in thee thousands, an' also many animals ter 'unt.

We decoided ter stay there fer weeks, stocking up on provisions, an' enjoyin' thee rest afore we set out fer our destination. We 'ad even taken ter buildin' 'uts made o' willow, which grew on the oisland near thee marshes. In thee third week o' our stay, the oisland were plagued boi mysterious tremors o' thee koind seen in earfquakes, a hominous soign if ever there be one, so we made our foinal preparations ter leave wiv many fresh provisions.

We 'ad not lost soight o' the oisland afore we saw it begin ter move, roisin' out o' thee water as if on a koind 'a 'oist. Many o' me croo were froightened o' the soight, but thee wind were good, an' we were makin' some 'eadway. Afore long, a terrifying soight greeted us from aft, an' the oisland were revealed ter be thee dreaded Kraken, lain dormant fer centuries!

We fled thee monstrosity fer thousands o' moiles before it gave up thee chase, an' we 'ad many an apocalyptic battle wiv it, it layin' waste ter several other oislands. We took aboard thee refugees from thee in'abited oislands, an' it were fortunate we took on all thee fresh provisions on thee oisland o' thee Kraken, as thee ship were full.

We eventually sailed inter thee Caribbean ter great fanfare, an' thee people we rescued were moightily greatful fer our hassistance. Ye'll be 'appy ter know that none o' them doid, an' they were settled wi' thee 'ospitality o' the port we left 'em in.

Roland Deschain - Half prophet, half gunslinger, all Pastafarian!

"Since Alexander Pearce escaped, over 250 people have disappeared in the Tasmanian wilderness. No remains have ever been found." - Dying Breed

All Bart Hindustries ave come up wiv so far is "Arrr B 674 XXX" wot, judgin by thee smell an thee colour is consentrated Fish Head Stoo...it aint foolin anybody. I told them ta try it out on thee laboratory rats but thee Bart Hindustries Head Boffin (otherwise known as thee cook) said he's already added them to thee recipe.

The smoke wafted gently in the breeze across the poop deck and all seemed right in the world.

"I don't mean to sound bitter, cynical or cruel; but I am, so that's how it comes out." ~ Bill Hicks."To argue with a person who has renounced reason is like administering medicine to the dead." ~ Thomas Paine."One should not believe everything one reads on the internet." ~ Abraham Lincoln."If you're making a political point wearing a balaclava, you're a c***. It was true for the IRA and it's true now." ~ daftbeaker.

We arsked 'em not ter give us a parade, as ter give thee refugees some much needed peace an' quoiet, but we did 'ave thee 'ospitality o' thee local taverns an' strip clubs. Yaaaarrrrrgggghhhh!

When did parades become alternative to strip clubs? I can see some problems ahead.

Grand Deducer Watson of Sherlock. NoName, no pack drill. Astral zone changed five times a day (flexible). Great at manifesting parking spaces by thought control. Hatred of terminology of survivors and commitment to win-win reality.